Alpha Hale

Chapter 7

Once Stiles pissed off an alpha there was a definite expectation that dinner would be an awkward- stabbing a fork in his face- kind of affair. And he was not disappointed. Derek didn't say anything as he cooked yet another mouth-watering food concoction that made Stiles want to worship at his feet when he handed it over without even glancing at him.

Maybe it was a must-provide-for-boy-you-intend-to-mate thing. Either way he wasn't complaining. Although, he wasn't sure what he missed more, Derek's short words or the way it felt when the alpha looked at him. He was having major Derek withdrawal and he really didn't like being deprived of any of it though considering the wreckage of a home he'd explored earlier he could understand why.

Derek went and sat in front of the television to eat and he followed, because the more distant Derek seemed, the more Stiles wanted to wanted to draw him back. It was like touching a live wire, the curious part of him couldn't resist.

"So, we're not talking about the hunters who are trying to kill you," he said figuring that would be the best conversation starter. Derek made no indication that he'd heard, but Stiles knew that he was listening. "And the little pack of werewolves running around and doing your bidding because they've, and I quote, 'Got your back'. And also not talking about the rogue werewolf running around in the woods that no one's going to catch because they think you're it, buddy. No, clearly not talking about that."

Derek only turned up the volume on the remote. Stiles choked out a laugh. "Oh my God. You're actually really serious about this, aren't you? What are you going to do never speak again because I went to your house? Not even thank me for patching you up just now, you know, when you were practically dying?"

The muscles in the alpha's jaw twitched as he clamped his teeth together. Stiles was surprised he didn't start grinding them.

"I am like the worst person in the world to ignore, you know," he continued in a conversational tone. "Because I can just keep talking about nothing for hours and hours. Plus, I have Adderall to sustain my conversation so your bullshit silent argument is invalid."

Derek looked like he was about to turn up the sound again in an attempt to block him out, but Stiles wasn't letting that fly and he reached over and snatched it out of his hand. He switched it off entirely, feeling an immensely satisfied when Derek inclined his head slightly in his direction.

It was an improvement and Stiles would take what he could get. "We're going to sit here until you get past your werewolf issues and open that talented mouth of yours."

And then suddenly he was very aware of what said mouth could do since he had impulse issues and bad sense of timing. Then he was picturing exactly what they could be doing instead of the not-talking thing and his body began to react with interest. Derek's blank expression shifted briefly before shutting his eyes as if to block out his senses.

That's about when Stiles realised exactly how he was going to get Derek to open his mouth and it didn't involve talking, no sir, it did not. He set down his now empty plate and stood up, approaching Derek cautiously before his hand came down onto his shoulder.

"Please," he murmured, quietly, hating the waver in his voice. "Just fucking talk to me."

Derek's eyes flew open as if he was surprised by the intensity of it. Stiles watched him carefully, searching for anger or hurt but after still somehow not finding it he eased himself down, settling into Derek's lap. The warmth of him, definitely wasn't going to help Stiles' concentration.

"I'm sorry. But I'm also not. Actually, I'm mostly just sorry about getting caught. And that wanting to know more about you made you angry," he said watching as his expression tightened. "I just want to know more about you."